


when it's not like the stories

by thirteenohtwo



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 01:01:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18458246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirteenohtwo/pseuds/thirteenohtwo
Summary: "Okay, technically, like, I am all about Fjord, you know. But also, maybe, I'm sometimes about Beau? But like lately... these days... for a while now... maybe since the Ball Eater... I have been very much not all about Fjord. And perhaps, if we dissected it, I have been all about Beau.”





	when it's not like the stories

"You'd think there would be  _one_  bookstore in this town," Caleb grumbles beside her. He folds his arm on the table, around his mug of swill, and taps his fingertips against the surface. "Even in a city of beasts, someone is bound to partake in some light reading. Knowledge is the foundation of any society..."

It's not totally her fault that she tunes Caleb out - not when he dives into a lecture of academia, he knows she can't force herself to focus on something she finds so boring. But Caleb is her friend and so she hums and nods every now and then, leaning against her elbow with her chin in her palm as she stares at the tiefling across the crowded tavern they're in. The fake tiefling. The human polymorphed into a tiefling. The incredibly attractive fake tiefling that's really a human, specifically her friend Beau.

Jester's eyes linger on the defined muscles of her bare arms, how vibrant the red of her skin is. The way it makes her blue eyes and black hair pop. People throw around the slurs 'devil' and 'demon' at Jester often enough, but gods, Beau is  _sinfully delicious_  as a tiefling.

The little Trickster sighs deeply, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. She drags her gaze along the expanse of abdomen that shows in the monk's vestments and robes, imagines running her fingers along the grooves of those stone abs. Her eyes flutter and she can almost see Beau beneath her, chest expanding with a choked expletive caught in her throat, Jester's cool palm against red hot skin as Beau drives her head back into the mattress. Those lovely defined arms flexing when she holds onto the bedposts above her head as Jester rides her for all she has.

"Even a little stand in the market with information pamphlets," Caleb groans and holds his face in his hands. "I'll take anything, at this point."

"Bahamut's balls, Caleb!" Jester hisses reflexively. She jerks up in her seat, swallowing heavily, and lets out a shaky breath. Her friend stares at her curiously. "It's almost as if this city doesn't appreciate fine literature!"

Caleb blinks and slowly nods like he's piecing together a complex puzzle. " _Ja_...  _ja_ , it is, isn't it. It's an affront to the pursuit of education!"

"Do you have any new books?" she wonders abruptly. Tilts her head and bats her eyelashes in a deceptively innocent manner. "Any sequels to Tusk Love or something like that, maybe?"

Suspicion glows in those blue eyes of his but the fondness in them outshines it. He leans back in his chair, brushing his hand over a scruffy chin. "You are meaning smut when you say something like Tusk Love?"

_"Technically..."_  Jester grins.

"I am sorry, my friend, but I haven't - eh, replenished the library, so to speak. Travelling underground for so long and then popping up in this... city, I haven't had the chance."

Rather impressively, Beau juggles an armful of mugs as she approaches the table. Her grin is sharp, all predator, and Jester hops in her seat. Pointedly ignores the heat in her stomach, and leans forward over the table. "Beau, were you flirting with that Orc lady at the bar?"

Beau rolls her eyes at the eyebrow wiggling and sets the mugs down. Jester preens a little when she catches the flash of blue dart towards her cleavage, and maybe,  _maaaaybe_  squishes her arms together a little more than necessary. "Flirting is just like any other skill, Jes," Beau says around her smirk and kicks out a chair for Fjord. Yasha helps Caduceus bring over a couple platters of food, and Nott just  _appears_  when they're set down on the table. "Gotta flex it now and then or it gets rusty."

As if to emphasize her point, Beau lifts her arms to display those biceps carved by the Muses themselves. Jester hums or purrs, maybe, tail swaying back and forth behind her head. Fjord slowly, discreetly leans back to look between the two of them, brows pinching together with confusion.

And then Jester blinks, dropping back in her seat. "Well, I don't think you're rusty even a little. She's still staring at you." She decides to ignore the acid that churns in her stomach. "You must be really, really good at it."

A darker red creeps up Beau's neck and Jester wants to chase it with her tongue, but also... her heart clenches at how  _sweet_  it is that Beau is blushing? How someone can be so suave, so brash, so cocky... and then turn around, getting bashful by the attention - it makes something in Jester ache with longing. 

No. Nope, bad thoughts. Beau is pretty. Just super pretty. And tiefling Beau is handsome like Fjord, and Jester is just getting herself a little confused. Maybe she's been reading  _too many_ books lately.

Beau is her friend and she doesn't ache for her friends - well, mostly not. Mostly just Fjord. Only Fjord. Maybe Yasha now and then, when the pain in her eyes is so profound it takes Jester's breath away. And Beau just, like, at night when she's  _reading_  and Beau groans in her sleep, or when Beau twirls around a bad guy to drop him like a sack of bricks, or when Beau finds her on the ship just as she's about to fall apart, saying such kind and lovely things that make the world hurt just a little bit less. But! Mostly Fjord.

Fjord, who gives her the guiltiest puppy dog eyes she's ever seen. Who hovers over her like a parent over a newborn, like she's made of fucking glass, like she isn't a grown woman who fights monsters and dragons, like she's a frightened little girl whose feelings were hurt because he chose  _Captain Avantika, sex goddess of the sea._

"Uh, Jester? Did I do something to upset you?" he asks hesitantly.

She blinks and smiles, head tilting, and watches the colour drain from his face. "Of course not, why would you even ask that?"

"Oh, it's just..." he waves his hand dismissively, lips puckering in a frown that tries to force itself to be casual. "You're glaring at me something fierce and you impaled that apple with your fork, uh, straight through into the table."

Jester instinctively releases the death-grip on her fork, staring down at the poor little fruit. "Oh, no, I was just drifting. Whoops."

"If that's you drifting, I'd hate to see you angry," Nott chirps around a mouth full of... meat?

Beau scoffs into her mug. "Gods, I'm still aching to see it."

Intrigue draws Jester up on the table again, leaning closer. "I could-"

"Jester, would you pass me the... thing that looks like salt?" Caleb asks loudly and Jester drags her heated gaze away from Beau's wide eyes, to a knowing Caleb. And then around the table to all of her friends. Her  _friends_.

Oh, she really, really needs some midnight reading. "Sure, no problem, Caleb!"

Fjord plucks it right out of Caleb's hand when he catches it, a crooked grin on his face made all the more charming by his tusks still growing in. "What's the magic word?" he teases.

"Holscheif."

Fjord blinks. "Bless you?"

"It's a magic word, hand me the salt." Caleb holds out his hand, tracing a circle in his palm. "Or I will make you."

An eyebrow crooks up. "Mighty big words coming from a man who still has his own blood dried in his beard."

"That door came out of nowhere and that is beside the point."

Fjord claps his hand on Caleb's shoulder and presses the salt shaker into his palm. Caduceus leans over to pull the fork from the table, biting into the apple. Nott looks between them all as she shovels more food into her mouth, the gears slowly turning, and Yasha's lips curve up in a warm smile.

**.**

**.**

**.**

The day has been long and gruelling. After trudging all the way out to the river, only to spend the morning walking the banks, they finally found the tumormoss... and a Roc. And then Gnolls. Roc and Gnoll do not mix, trying to fight off the pack with a monstrosity swooping at them was a literal nightmare that depleted every last spell slot between them.

But it's over. They won. They walked away, lived to keep on fighting, to keep on running. Those who fell got back up, and now they drag themselves back towards the city. Anxious looks shot between them as they eye their friends' wounds warily.

Everyone is alive.

Ahead of her, Jester watches Fjord and Beau cradle Caleb between them. An arm hooked around both of their shoulders, while Nott trails behind quickly. Fjord grunts, his hand slipping from Caleb's coat, and Beau twists to catch and hold all of the wizard's weight.

It only takes a moment for Fjord to adjust his bag and hook Caleb's arm around him again. Jester watches on fondly, sighing softly. "I miss Molly."

Beside her, Caduceus rases a pink eyebrow and angles his face down towards her. He literally always has a sort of dazed, serene look on his face, but in the glow of the afternoon light, he looks like peace incarnate. “Hm? Oh, sorry.”

“It's not your fault.”

He watches her for a silent moment where her entire frame droops with the weight of life and death. The guilt of a survivor is a unique thing, almost untouchable, a burden that only a tormented few bear. Torn between the gift of a second chance, and the knowledge that  _you weren’t there, you couldn’t help._ “I know. But it will always hurt, in its own way, for the rest of your life. I'm just sorry. Is there a specific reason you miss him right now?”

“I need to talk to him about something,” Jester says thoughtfully. She stares up at her fellow cleric, at the concern and comfort that brim up in his gentle eyes. 

He smiles softly. “You should then. I don't know for sure about the afterlife,” he waves his large hand around, “I don’t know for sure about this life. But. Things have a way of gettìng around, and I'm sure it would feel better than it does right now if you did.”

It’s not exactly foreign, she knows she’s heard it somewhere before. It might be something she'd overheard her mother tell her grieving clients, that people aren’t ever truly gone. That sometimes it’s best to just  _get the grief out_  than keep it in, eating away at your soul. And if her momma said it, then it’s gotta be true. “That's true. You're super wise, Caduceus.”

“Thank you. Maybe I could help?”

She considers her actual question and can’t help but giggle. Tries to smother it with her hand, and shakes her head. “Oh, I don’t know. You're super wise but this might be beyond you.”

“Okay.” Caduceus doesn’t even blink. Just a simple shrug of his shoulders and he inclines his head amicably. They walk in silence a few more steps and he tilts his head curiously. “I could try.”

It’s worth a shot, Jester supposes. “Well... do you think Beau is sexy?”

Those big pink eyes stare down at her blankly and she waits... and waits. His brows slowly furrow with thought, nodding ever so slightly, as if he’s truly considering this question as deep as one might ponder their reason for existence. "Oh. Oh, uh. Sure, yeah. Why not. Sexy like the sky.”

“What does that even mean??” Jester laughs with a shake of her head, hooking her arm with his.

His lips twitch, a long grey finger tapping his fuzzy chin. “Just. You know. As comforting as she is unyielding. It's a little uneasy, a little uncomfortable when you can't see it, a panic when you don't know where it is. But reversely, if you look at it too long, if you stare more than you should...” he instinctively reaches for his staff, bracing himself as he gazes up above them.

“You don’t know what sexy is, do you?”

Caduceus grins. “No. Sorry.”

“I still appreciate the effort.” Jester sighs, shaking her head with a delighted smile. “It does feel a little better, talking about it.”

“So you think Beau is sexy then?”

Jester gasps, pulling her arm from his to lightly slap his elbow. “Caduceus! I think  _Fjord_  is sexy, and handsome, and dashing, and all of the things I'm supposed to think he is.”

He looks confused again. “Supposed to? Thoughts are free, Miss Jester. You're allowed to think whatever you like.”

“No, I  _know_  that, I just meant. Okay, technically, like, I am all about Fjord, you know. But also, maybe, I'm sometimes about Beau? But like lately... these days... for a while now... maybe since the Ball Eater... I have been very much  _not_  all about Fjord. And perhaps, if we dissected it, I have been all about Beau.”

“Okay.”

Jester wrings her hands, smiling anxiously. Purple eyes flit away, shadows of hurt lingering in them. "But Beau is about Yasha. And I am about Fjord. So it's silly! It doesn't even matter, I don't know where I was going with that. It's really, really ridiculous.” She glances back. “Right?”

“Maybe,” Caduceus agrees softly. Tilts his head to one side... and then the other. Looks back down at her. “Maybe not. Is Beau about Yasha the same way that you are about Fjord?”

Eyebrows jump and Jester opens her mouth. The words linger on her tongue and she looks ahead of them in time to see Beau flash Fjord a grin and adjust Caleb’s weight again. “I... oh. I hadn't thought of that. Like, she's not really about Yasha, she's only supposed to be?”

“Who decides what we're supposed to be about?” Caduceus wonders aloud. “I would like to ask that person some questions. How do they decide?”

“It's not a person, it's just... the way it is!”

“Why?”

Well. Well... because. It just is? Maybe? “I'm not really sure.”

“That doesn't seem fair then,” he decides and nods firmly. “I think I'll ignore it, and feel how I feel, and think what I think.”

“That's a good idea,” Jester agrees while her mind races.

Another quiet moment passes between them. Yasha’s hand stops glowing and she doesn’t limp anymore when she pulls it away from her hip. In another few strides, she hoists Caleb up over her shoulder and falls in step with the others. “What do you think your friend would have told you?” Caduceus asks.

“Oh, I don't know. Anticipating Molly was always difficult, almost impossible, really.” She thinks about it and hums, smiling slightly. “He would probably tease me about my taste, he really liked giving Beau a hard time. But maybe he would have told me that the heart wants what it wants, and who are we to disagree with the whimsy of love? Something like that, he was very poetic. I feel like he could have written half the books I read.”

“He sounds lovely.”

Some of the sadness creeps back in, but Jester forces her smile to stay strong. Brilliant and blinding, just like his. “He was. I'm sorry you never got to know him, Caduceus. And that he never got to know you, I think you would have liked each other.”

“I think he would very much appreciate the way you all still carry him with you. I also think maybe we should catch up to the others before they get worried.”

She snorts. “Yeah, no, yeah. I see Nott's Mom Face aimed back at us, let's go before she assigns first watch on us.”

**.**

**.**

**.**

_Soft gasps and muffled moans echo in the quiet room, the darkness of the night like a protective shroud that blocks out the rest of the world. It's just the two of them and the bed beneath them, moonlight spilling in from the window and catching the blues of Beau's eyes. Pools of crystal clear water and Jester has never wanted to drown before, never wanted to fall in, and in, and in... her tail tightens around Beau's thigh. Her fingers splay across the brown skin of Beau's abs, flushed with the heat between them, and she runs her hands up Beau's sides._

_It's adorable how the monk tries to bite back her grin and electrifying how she wiggles and squirms between Jester's thighs. But a tickle fight is not why she crawled into Beau's bed tonight, and so she rolls her hips in a seductive circle and gasps at the lightning that shoots up her spine. Beau clenches the sheets in her fists, swallowing her favourite vulgar word, and shudders._

_"Beauregard..." Jester purrs and rocks her hips forward again, a delighted smile full of her fangs when it draws a guttural groan from the woman beneath her. "I know you've been watching me lately."_

_Swooping forward, Jester catches herself with her hands on either side of Beau's face. Their noses brush together and her eyes crinkle when she catches sight of the blush creeping up Beau's neck. So she dips down and follows it with her tongue, a scorching path up, and up, and-_

_A strong hand cups the back of her neck, yanking her forward into aggressive but oh so gentle lips. Desperation tamed by adoration, and the molten pit in Jester's stomach tightens, the grip on her inhibitions loosens. Beau's arm circles her waist, and rough fingertips trace Jester's jaw featherlight._

_Another strike of lightning, Jester rolls her hips down into Beau. She swallows the monk's gasp, and playfully flicks her tongue with her own. Beau tastes like blood - a faded copper bite, and Jester has seen that bloody grin often enough. Has swooned over it, has tasted it now, and the heat in her stomach grows. Intensifies. The coil tightens. Beau's hands slide down her sides, fingers dig into her hips as she sucks on a far more experienced tongue. Magic crackles against her skin everywhere she makes contact with Beau, Beau, Beau..._

_She sits back with a gasp and drags in as much air as she can. Beau pants beneath her and Jester stares up at the ceiling, her chest heaving, continuously rocking down against her friend. "Beau," she chokes out and swallows. Forces her heavy eyes to focus on the blown pupils that stare up at her hungrily. Jester lays her hands over Beau's on her hips, guiding them up her sides again. "I really, really like you," she whispers in the moonlight. Brings Beau's hands to her lips and presses a kiss against the scarred fingers, placing them on the lace ribbon of her corset. "Do you like me?"_

_"So much it hurts," Beau growls in a voice so rough it sounds like gravel. Jester rocks harder against her and Beau leans up, kisses Jester again. And again. And again. Until they're against each other, in each other, and Jester didn't even notice she's pinned Beau back to the bed._

_Until Jester feels the ribbon laced across the front of her chest pulled free. And then not even the desperate, heated mash of lips and tongue can distract her from Beau pulling the corset loose. From her breasts spilling up and Beau slipping her hands in. A deep, primal noise is torn from Jester's throat, along with Beau's name._

She gasps harshly in the cool night, eyes shooting open wide. Her chest still heaves and she swallows, slowly blinking up at the ceiling of their inn room. She lifts a trembling hand to wipe her sweaty forehead.

"Jes...? You calling me?" Beau's groggy voice carries across the room from her own bed.

Jester turns her head and leans up, feels the sheets and her nightgown cling to her sweaty skin. "No!" she says in a voice much too squeaky. "I said... oh...?"

In the soft moonlight, Jester watches Beau sluggishly turn onto her side. Her eyes are closed, on the precipice of sleep, but hums. "Did'ja have a bad dream?"

"No..." She hates the way her heart drops. Her chest sinks. The way reality crashes in and steals a moment, even a fake one, from her. "Maybe."

Beau's breathing heavily and Jester wonders if maybe she wasn't really awake to begin with. A few seconds pass and she slowly lays back down in her bed, knowing she's going to have a long, lonely night of sorting out her head.

But Beau grunts (Jester ignores the reminiscent pulse of  _want_  that echoes through her) and pats her bed. "You can sleep with me if you're scared."

It's probably not a good idea.

Probably a bad idea.

Almost definitely a bad idea, especially with how preoccupied her thoughts are these days. How loose the control she has over what she wants, and what she's doing about it.

But that doesn't stop Jester from climbing into Beau's bed and snuggling up against her back. From looping her arm around a warm waist, and her tail around Beau's leg.

So what if her mind plays tricks on her and tells her that Beau hums again, sinking back into her embrace?

**.**

**.**

**.**

Xorhas has an unfathomably beautiful sky. It's so big and open, a stretch of purple that fades to blue that fades to black, with pink just barely peeking over the horizon, and an explosion of stars scattered across it all. There are patches, true, where the night is so dark that you can't see your hand in front of your face, but out in these open fields, the stars shine so bright that she can sketch in the soft glow of light.

Especially in the little pocket of wildlife they've found. With grass so green that in the dark, the roots give off a faint blue luminescent glow. Splashes of purple pop up with the mushrooms, and Caduceus snores amongst the orange flowers that almost seem to cradle him while he sleeps.

Jester couldn't sleep if she tried, not when there's so much beauty to capture, to memorize and desperately sketch. None of her inks do the colours justice and her hand cramps painfully, but she can't stop.

"It's not as pretty down south," Yasha murmurs from her side of Caleb's bubble. Jester twitches and looks up in surprise, watching the little smile that graces the barbarian's face. "Sorry."

"You apologize a lot," Jester tells her thoughtfully.

And nothing more, just an observation, surface deep. Or it would be if those purple eyes didn't hold the same kind of scrutiny that Caleb's do when he's studying. "I do," Yasha agrees. "Do you want me to take next watch?"

"If you'd like. I might stay up a little longer, I'm not sleepy." She doesn't mention the hassle that  _is_  sleeping lately, how she can't get her dreams under control and she's worried about letting something slip while she's asleep. She doesn't mention the sour twist in her stomach, looking over to see Beau between Caduceus and Nott, no room for Jester.

She doesn't mention that she wants Beau so badly that her unconscious is screaming at her.

It's not Yasha's problem, it's barely a problem. Not worthy of anyone's time, not when they're out here to rescue Yeza. Not with the risk of death looming over them. Not with war on the ever approaching horizon.

Jester has a crush, who cares.

"Are you alright?" Yasha asks softly. And her gaze. Her gaze is so gentle, so compassionate, and Jester knows that  _Yasha_  would care. That if she told her, explained that her heart  _hurts_ , Yasha would care enough to help without hesitation.

But Yasha is maybe part of the problem. Yasha maybe holds Beau's heart in her hands. Beau maybe holds Yasha's broken one. And the last thing Jester wants, the last thing she would ever do, is hurt her friends.

Still. What is it that Caleb is always saying? Knowledge is power, neither good nor bad. A resource to use and share.

"Yasha, how..." Jester adjusts her sketchbook in her lap and casts a glance around their group, careful to be quiet. Prying ears are not what she needs.

Seemingly following that line of thought, Yasha stands silently. She holds out her hand and jerks her chin to the side, very easily pulling Jester up to her feet.

They don't go as far as they did last time. The fear lingers down both of their spines, remembering the last time the two of them, and Fjord, had wandered too far from the group. They stay close enough that Yasha could kick stones at the bubble if she needed to.

"What's on your mind, Jester?" she asks and fiddles with the little bracelet that Nott had given her.

Jester stares out at the sky, where the blue and the black collide and make something daunting and hopeful. "How did you know you loved Zuala?"

"Oh." Jester glances up to see Yasha's eyebrows bounce and the smile stretch across her face. Her large shoulders slump, entire stance relaxing. "You had such a serious look on your face, I thought something was wrong." Her smile... doesn't fade, but it softens into something more tender. Her mismatched eyes skirt the area, always alert for danger, but she looks... happy. And sad. It's weird. "I suppose I always loved her, but I guess I  _knew_ , for sure, on our first hunt together."

Simple delight flares at her edges and Jester pours herself into it like she always does, so desperate to make those feelings last as long as she can. Knowing that they will fade - they always fade. So she twirls in place and clasps her hands under her chin. "Was it super romantic?"

"Well..." Pink slowly creeps across Yasha's cheeks, she scratches at the back of her neck and ducks her head. "Not really, no. But it was nice. Sweet. I fell out of a tree."

"Oh my gods, Yasha, that is so cute!" Jester gushes brightly. She can totally picture it - big badass Yasha with her warpaint and rippling muscles... falling out of a tree in front of her crush. "What happened?"

"Oh," she sighs and scoffs, a chuckle mixed in. "If that wasn't bad enough, I landed on her. She twisted her ankle and I spent an hour trying to heal it but, well, I couldn't do what I can now. So I carried the boar  _and_  her back to camp."

"You're so strong!"

Yasha bobs her head in a nod because, yeah, she's really fucking strong. "I was so nervous with her in my arms and so embarrassed about falling on her, I got lost. We spent the night in a hollow tree."

Jester hums thoughtfully and taps her chin. "And that's when you knew?"

"Yes."

"How??"

"Later in the night she told me that I didn't really land on her, so much as she tried to catch me," Yasha murmurs with a twist to her lips and a sparkle in her eye. "And that she didn't point out we were heading in the wrong direction because she didn't want our hunting trip to end."

"And  _that's_  when you knew?" Jester asks and Yasha nods. Which is frustratingly unhelpful, if not super sweet. "But  _how_  did you know?"

Yasha sighs and brings her hands up onto her hips. Stares up at the sky and thinks about it. "I don't know. I just... felt it. My chest was so full of this giddy warmth that I could hardly breathe, my cheeks hurt from smiling. I guess, I don't know, I realized my life would always be better with her in it and that I wanted to spend the rest of it by her side."

It's not something to cry over, like, okay, yeah, it's such a lovely story and maybe it is super sad when she thinks about it. Knowing that Yasha had that and lost it, lost Zuala. But it's sharp, it tears through Jester's chest like the talons of a roc, and she chokes back a sob. Buries her face in her palms and holds her tears at bay.

For a while, at least, for a moment where she's not sure if she'll ever stop feeling like this. But then strong, warm fingers pull Jester's hands from her face - Yasha ducking to catch her watery eyes, concern shining back at her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Jester insists in a broken voice, even as she pushes a beaming smile on her face and it is perfect. Jester's smile is always perfect - the perfect tinge of mischief, the perfect flash of joy, perfectly warm, and perfectly charming... not even her tears can take away from it. "Everything is fine, of course!"

Yasha swipes a thumb along Jester's cheek, wiping away a tear, and smiles softly. "That is an impressive trick."

"I'm okay!"

"It's alright if you're not," she insists gently.

Jester's chest tightens and she sucks in a sharp breath. "I'm totally fine, Yasha!"

"Even a mountain bows to the sky."

She shakes her head and clenches her fists. "What's with everyone and the sky lately? Why don't you just marry it?"

"I-... well, I actually don't have a reply to that. It's a pretty weird thing to say," Yasha tells her fondly.

So sweet. So patient. Jester nods and falls forward, sinking into the barbarian's hug and buries her face in a strong shoulder. "I'm maybe not totally fine, Yasha."

"And that's okay." Yasha hums softly, rubbing comforting circles on the tiefling's back as she cries. They stay like that for a little while as the night rolls by, as Jester lets her heartache pour from her in waves. Yasha never wavers, never pulls away. She simply holds Jester while something is mumbled into her neck. "What?"

Finally, Jester pulls back. She flashes an embarrassed but grateful smile and wipes at her eyes. "I like Beau."

"I know."

Wait. "Wait. What?"

They both look back towards the bubble where the monk stretches her foot out where Jester had been sitting. Where their friends, their family, slumber peacefully. Yasha inclines her head again. "I don't say much, and I won't mention it, but I see almost as much as Caduceus."

"Are you upset?"

Apparently, it's a weird thing to ask, if Yasha twisting to look at Jester like she grew another head is any indication. "No."

"It's just." Jester shakes her head and sniffles again, waving her hand towards the bubble. "She's always flirting with you, like, so super obviously."

Again, Yasha blinks and considers this. "Yeah, but... why would that make me upset if you like her?"

"She's yours...?"

"People don't belong to people," is Yasha's automatic reply. But her lips tug down in a frown and she shifts, rolling a shoulder. "But I get what you're saying and I think Beau and I understand each other. I will always be Zuala's, even if Beau likes to... poke. It's our thing."

"You don't want her?" Jester wonders with something like hope in her chest.

And Yasha chuckles, a frustrated noise. "You really need to word these things differently." She sighs and hangs a hand on the back of her neck. "I... I'm okay with how things are. It's how I want them to be, I couldn't... I can't be what Beau wants or needs."

Another comfortable silence lingers between them for a beat. They watch the monk stretch her foot down farther, towards the edge of the bubble.

"Jester, you are everything she wants and needs," Yasha tells her so softly she almost doesn't hear. "I'm not sure if either of you know it but I hope you realize it soon."

The cleric scoffs. "Right, because-"

_"Jester!"_  Beau gasps and wrenches up in the middle of the bubble. Her frantic eyes fall over each other member around her and she twists up onto her knees.  _"Jester!"_

"AHH!" Nott darts up to her feet, spinning around wildly with the crossbow in her hands. "Where are they? Who am I shooting?"

Caleb pops up beside her with a flaming fist, his eyes still closed. "Put down your weapons or forfeit your own face!"

Jester drags Yasha back towards the bubble. "Shhh! Beau, I'm here! Guys, quiet! You're going to wake up every creature in a hundred miles."

"Jes," Beau sighs in relief and springs from the bubble, not even at Jester before she starts reaching. Jester lets herself be dragged into a rough hug, while Beau places her hand on Yasha's shoulder. "What are you guys doing out of the bubble?"

"Stretching our legs," Yasha mumbles sheepishly. "Sorry. Sorry, Nott."

"I'll fuck you up," the goblin gargles - half asleep still. "Nobody takes my babies."

"Put it down before someone loses an eye," Fjord warns without lifting his head from Caduceus' arm.

She drops back on her butt, rubbing at her eyes, and yawns. "Alright. Just say the word and I'll blast 'em between the eyes."

Caleb wordlessly drops back into the grass and curls around Frumpkin.

"You should join them," Yasha says and nods towards the group. She presses her hand against Jester's back, guiding both of them towards the bubble. "I've got second watch."

Beau muffles her yawn in Jester's shoulder and scratches her cheek. "You sure? I can take it."

"No, I'm fine. Go to sleep."

She nods and steps between Fjord and Caduceus' legs, stopping only when their hands threaten to separate. She blinks sleepy eyes at the tiefling, a drowsy smile. "Comin'?"

"Yes," Jester breathes and crawls down between her fellow cleric and the literal girl of her dreams. Caduceus mutters something about flora and scratches his chest, sighing so deeply it disturbs the fireflies gathered in his hair. Jester stares up at them as they flutter and buzz, biting her lip when Beau curls into her side. "Goodnight, Beau."

"Don't stab me with a horn."

She can't smother the snort and freezes when Beau groans, readjusting to nestle her face in Jester's neck to shield her eyes from errant points. "Goodnight, Beau."

"Gonna make me say it?" She can feel the smile against her skin. "Goodnight, Jester."

**.**

**.**

**.**

"If you hurt him..."

"I know, Nott."

"If you so much as make him cry..."

"I know, Nott."

"I'll drown you again."

"I  _know_ , Nott."

"Okay. You better. He's a prince and he deserves to be treated like a prince. Now come give me a hug, floppy wrist. I'm very happy and proud of both of you."

"Aww. Someone's a big old softie under that tiny, prickly, drunken exterior."

"I will literally smother you in your sleep, is that what you want? Is this happening right now, is it go time? Put up your fragile little fists, I'm ready to go toe-to-toe with the wet tissue paper man."

She watches Fjord raise his fists, hopping side to side on his feet and feigning a couple jabs down at the goblin. Nott bares her teeth, fishing around in her coat, and Fjord is  _up the tree_  when she yanks out a vial of acid. Jester smothers her giggle in her palm, giving up on her sketch to quickly recreate the image in her book.

A shadow falls over her and she twists, holding her hand up to block the sun and squint at Beau. Her heart thuds painfully in her chest and she offers a brilliant smile. "Hi!"

"Hey," is tossed at her casually and the monk drops to the ground next to her, elbow hooked over her propped up knee. "How's it going?"

"You know, pretty good!" Jester sings and closes her book. It's been a few days since she's really spoken to Beau, more than a couple words in passing, or meaningless things amongst the group. She's glad they're heading back into town today, that they'll get to room together again. "How are you?"

The scars on her shoulder are still fresh, the swipe from the Bugbear particularly deep. Jester hates that Beau so willingly throws herself between her friends and danger, so eager to be a damage sponge. But she knows it only really became an issue after Molly, that Beau only started excessively doing it after he fell.

Jester knows she's not the only one who carries the guilt of walking away from the Iron Shepards.

"I'm pretty good," Beau echoes. Her hard eyes study the scene playing out before them, amusement making them sparkle like sapphires. "So." She clears her throat and tilts her head, glancing at Jester. "Fjord and Caleb."

"I know!" Jester gasps and presses a hand to her heart before leaning against Beau. "It's super cute, I can hardly handle it!"

Beau nods, let's Jester jostle her roughly, and grins. "No, yeah. That's... cute, I guess."

"Beau, you're still tough even if you think things are cute."

"Hey, I know. I'm very secure in my toughness. I think you're cute and I'm still tough," she replies gruffly and dramatically tugs at her vestments. But Jester hardly notices, her brain hooked on Beau's words and looping them over and over again. Beau brushes her knuckles against her jaw and stares out at their friends. "I just wanted to check in, make sure things were... pretty good. I know you like Fjord and stuff."

It's heartwarming, how much effort she's going to. Jester knows this isn't exactly Beau's forte, she's not into talking about feelings, or having feelings, or talking... but she's  _trying_. For  _Jester_. And it's the sweetest thing ever.

Even if she's a little wrong.

Jester hums and straightens up, smoothing her hands over the cover of her sketchbook. "I don't like Fjord like that, actually," she says as matter-of-factly as she can. She can see Beau whip her head around out the corner of her eye, and smirks. "I mean, don't get me wrong. He was super fun to flirt with and poke - he's  _very_  pretty, and charming, and funny, and handsome! So handsome."

"Yup, pretty, gotcha," Beau grumbles roughly.

Jester's smirk deepens and she tilts her head, leaning sideways to look up at Beau. "Not as pretty as  _you_ , of course." She waits for the blush to slowly unfurl up Beau's neck and straightens up again. "He checked a lot of the boxes that all of my stories told me had to be checked and I think maybe I got confused? He was my first boy friend and all the girls' boy friends eventually become their boyfriends, that's how it goes."

"Ugh, compulsive heteronormative ideals."

Jester nods, a little confused again, but utterly serious. "Yes, yes, quite. Hetertive ideas."

With a chuckle, Beau drops her face into her palm to hide her grin. "So you don't like Fjord?"

"I love Fjord!" she gasps earnestly.

"But not in the way that would have you crushed over him and Caleb getting together."

"No, I'm so happy for them!"

Beau stares at her for a few lingering moments where Jester digs her fingers into her knees to keep from leaning in. When Beau looks off again, she sighs in relief and relaxes. "Good. That, uh, you're not heartbroken or whatever. That's good. For you."

"Very good for me," Jester agrees.

Beau blinks. "Yup."

"... yeah."

"Great."

"Good."

She sniffs and nods, squinting up at the bright sky. "So I'm gonna go."

And gone she is, quick like a bunny, hopping up to her feet so she can dart away. Jester watches her dash towards the trees where Caleb reads, and sighs roughly. "Traveler, what the heck was  _that?"_  she groans and flops back in the dirt. "It was so awkward!"

**.**

**.**

**.**

****With Essik gone and important conversations out of the way, everyone feels their exhaustion catch up to them. The emotional and mental fatigue of almost losing everything, only for Caleb to play the most powerful hand in their deck, to becoming _heroes of the dynasty_ , all the way to having actually rescued Yeza? It's more than anyone can handle in a single afternoon and they all trudge down the hallway to their rooms.

Nott tugs Yeza by the hand, a nervous smile on her face as they enter their room, and something in Jester's chest flutters. Beau rubs at her sore shoulder, making for the next door, her serious and sharp cloud still lingering around her.

Jester knows this isn't the nicest situation for her to be in. While dangerous for them all, especially the humans, Jester wonders if it's not  _more_  precarious for a monk of the Cobalt Soul, for someone with connections to higher powers within the Empire, for someone who still  _belongs_  to something. She doesn't know how to lessen that burden, that worry. Doesn't know how to smooth the jagged edges that the group keeps getting caught on ever since they got here.

Maybe Beau is just tired.

Maybe it will be easier in the morning.

Maybe she needs a reminder that they're still friends? Still family? That while their lives change, their cores do not, and she might be with the Cobalt Soul but she's also  _one of them_ , and they won't let anything happen to her.

There's no time to second guess the decision - Jester sprints down the hallway to catch up and flings herself on Beau's back for a piggyback ride, her cackle echoing down the hall.

But Beau  _is_  tired and  _not_  Yasha or Jester herself, she drops to her knees and claws at the door as they fall. "Fucking what?!" she gasps as they go.

Jester winces as Beau's knees make impact with the floorboards. "Shit! Sorry!" she gasps and tries to skitter off.

Except Beau hooks her hands under Jester's knees and, with a grunt, pushes up to her feet again. They careen backwards, Jester's back slamming against Fjord and Caleb's door. "I got this," Beau grinds out between her teeth and Jester giggles, hugs her tightly from behind.

They angle forward and swoop quickly - Jester catches them with her hands on their door. "Careful!"

"Shh! Don't worry."

"Beau, just let me down!"

"Fuck that, I got you."

"Okay, bend down a little, I can't reach the handle."

"Sweet... Wildmother... my fucking knees..."

Jester fumbles with the handle and shoves the door in but without it, they lose their balance and go toppling into the room. Beau gasps and Jester shrieks, palms slamming against the wooden floor. Beau sags against it and Jester can feel the laughter against her chest. "Beau, are you okay?" she giggles.

"Always," comes the muffled reply. She twists beneath Jester, agile and lithe, and always, always so squirmy.

Her brown cheeks are flushed, dark hair clinging to her forehead, and Jester's heart jumps up into her throat. Blue melts into purple, they stare at each other for a beat... and then two.

Jester's tail sways side to side behind her head, she only notices when Beau's eyes flick to track the movement. When the grin on the monk's face smooths into something more tender. Jester leans her weight on one hand and her knee between Beau's, lifting a hand to brush back the hair on Beau's forehead, to tuck it back up with the rest. She trails her fingertips back down the side of her face and Beau's eyelashes flutter.

This is what she wants. It clicks in her chest, like the softest lock. This is where she wants to be, to spend the rest of her life by Beau's side. With her or  _with_  her, in any capacity the monk will have her. Not like her stories, not happily ever after, but something  _real._

Real like this.

Beau tilts her chin up to press her lips against Jester's.


End file.
